“Say you love me.”
“Just say you love me, I know you won’t mean it, I just want to hear you say it to me.”
My heart broke exponentially, my voice cracked, “I love feeling you…” I stopped and searched his eyes with mine.. “I love you baby.”
It’s not that I don’t, and it’s not that I do. I feel something, I feel more than something. He has a place that only beats for him. It’s warm and giddy and constant, but it’s on the side of my heart. It’s on the edge. It’s because, I never let him in fully.
Well, I couldn’t, because at the beginning, he was a reminder of the one before him. He was a lesson I had already learnt. He was completely different to my ex, but strangely so reminiscent: one of three boys, from the same country, with the same exact initials.
And okay, it might have been a coincidence. Soon I knew he was nothing like those before him. One week in, I was falling for him. But still I couldn’t let him in fully. In the forefront of my mind all I wanted was to impress my family. Even whilst in the middle of his deep affections, I was worried I couldn’t bring him to impress them. Subsumed by his attention and consistency, I shut it down and only saw our differences. I saw our families. And I saw all the fights I would lose. And I saw the battles we would endure.
I watched him look intently into my eyes, I watched him wipe the corner of his right eye. I felt him call me beautiful. I felt him look at me with so much passion every time I turned to walk away.
I close my eyes and still remember his hands pressing into mine, his eyes gleaming softly into mine.
Honestly, his was a different kind of love. Honest, open, understanding. Minus the turbulence, minus the games, minus any cowardice. Unlike all the shit I knew so well. He was determined, caring and forever mine.
And it’s not that he wasn’t in my heart, it’s just that I had a place in his where I didn’t belong.